Summer School Woes
by PeanutButterConnoisseur
Summary: Patty McCormick, who lives next door to the Dursley's, anxiously awaits the return of Harry Potter, the mysterious boy that strangely disappears during the school months. As Patty sees Harry, her long-standing crush on him kicks into overdrive.
1. Chapter 1

Patty McCormick stared out of her dirty window, onto the neighboring lot, the home of the Dursley's. It was early on a summer day, and the window was cracked slightly to let in the temperate breeze. Patty let her mind wander, and she watched the silent, nonmoving neighborhood. Her grades had not been good enough the previous school year, and now was forced to take summer school classes, the worst possible punishment her parents or her school could concoct.

The Dursley's were always a bit of a mystery to Patty, who was a year behind Dudley. The man of the house was fat and antisocial, and reminded Patty a bit of a walrus. His wife, Petunia she though was her name, was timid and pale looking, and even less friendly than her husband. And from what Patty could observe of their son, he was an annoying, chubby, bully of a boy that liked to think he was tough, though he would as soon run away from anything dangerous than meet it head on.

But then there was Harry, a slight young man, a year older than Patty, who mysteriously disappeared during the school year, only to return nine months later for the summer. It was Harry who Patty had always harbored a crush for, and it was Harry for whom she was now watching. It was June 15th already and he had not yet returned, so Patty was getting anxious. Though she knew deep down that liking to the point of loving someone she had only spoken to once was foolish, she could not shake the feeling she got when he looked her in the eyes from behind his thick glass lenses.

Patty's reverie was broken as her mother called up that it was time to leave. Patty sighed and retrieved her schoolbag, which she had shoved under her desk the previous evening. She climbed sullenly down the stairs, into the garage, and into the car. Her face was set in a serious line when she saw him. It was Harry, getting out of a car in the Dursley's driveway. Patty gasped quietly through her nose at the gangly boy as he struggled with a heavy trunk, and their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, sending shivers down her spine. She snapped her head forward and wished silently that this would not be the last time they met.


	2. Chapter 2

Patty could not take it anymore. Being inside the house that was so close to Harry's home was infuriating and frustrating. Her hope that she could start a friendship with Harry had been falsely renewed as their eyes locked a few days before. What Patty saw in those eyes had led her to the incorrect conclusion that he wanted to get to know her. She saw something like hope, courage, maybe a twinkle of longing? But longing for whom? Patty barely let herself think that the want in his eyes was for her. 

Pounding the ground with her feet, Patty now walked in the uncharacteristically hot air. Minutes before, she had found herself staring out of her window, hoping for a glimpse of the boy she still longed for. After a few moments of this, Patty mentally scolded herself. She hardly knew this boy! Why in the world was she wasting minutes, no, _hours _on him? This rude little boy that falsely raised her hopes every summer, only for them to end in disappointment. 

With her fury at herself and Harry at a high, she angrily picked up a hefty stick from the sidewalk and flung it with every once of strength, down the deserted street. She watched the trajectory of the projectile with satisfaction at its distance (apparently she didn't know her own strength) until she saw a person standing directly in its path. Their back was turned to Patty, and she was surprised she hadn't noticed him before. Not wanting to be the source of a head injury, Patty squeaked out a warning,

"Watch out!" Though her voice was soft with worry for the stranger, the silent neighborhood air carried the message to the stranger and he turned, just in time for the stick to glance off of his left ear and knock off his glasses. 

A loud gasp escaped Patty mouth and her eyes widened as she recognized the gaunt body, thick, unkempt dark hair, and deep set eyes that belonged to Harry Potter. How ironic, she thought, that the source of her anger should be hit with the stick she threw out of her fury.

Patty found herself nervous and unsure of herself. Should she go help the half-blind boy that was now groping around on the ground for his AWOL glasses, or should she walk away, and away from possibly the only chance she would get to talk to the boy she had always wanted to meet? Her mind raced as she tried to decide the right course of action, and soon enough she decided what she wanted to do. Shakily but with determination, Patty took her first step towards Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

It was hot. It was awkward. It was not how Patty imagined her first conversation with Harry would be.

After rescuing Harry's glasses from the grass, Patty stood over the crouching Harry, and looked at him. He placed the glasses with little grace onto his face, and quickly, lithely got up, and stood, surprisingly tall, in front of Patty.

"Thanks," he said, looking away and taking a step back. 

"No problem," she replied. 

They stood there like that for a few moments, facing away from each other. Patty could tell by the way he held his body that Harry wanted nothing more than to walk away. Hurt by this realization that he wanted to be rid of her, she said,

"Bye," and turned to walk away. Before she could take her first step, Harry had grabbed her arm and was saying something. Patty was so caught up in the fact that he was actually touching her, holding her arm gently but firmly, that it wasn't until a few moments after Harry had stopped talking that Patty realized he said something.

"What?" she asked stupidly, ripping her gaze from his arm around her hand to look up at him. He dropped her arm, and again looking away said,

"I think I've seen you before."

"I live next door to you."

"Ah," he said, embarrassed that he hadn't remembered. Stung by this lack of notice, Patty looked back up and said,

"My name is Patty."

"Harry." 

Patty smiled in a way she hoped was friendly, turned, and started walking away slowly, hoping he would follow. Sure enough, his steady foot falls sounded behind her, and Patty, in turn, quickened her pace. 

She could see her intended destination, the old rickety playground that stood old and unwanted at the end of the street. The playground was where Patty went when she felt sad, or mad, or just wanted to be out of the house. Her initials were forever carved in the swing-set pole, and it was the swing closest to the pole that Patty's eyes were trained on. Every time she visited the playground, the swing was where she went, swishing back and forth on the old metal seat until she felt better. 

Stepping up onto the woodchips that carpeted the playground floor, a familiar feeling of belonging swept over Patty and she felt at home. She sat down on her swing, and wrapped her hands around the chains. Harry walked in front of her, close enough that Patty could reach out and touch his leg, and sat down on the swing next to her. She felt oddly comfortable sitting here, and his laid back posture testified for Harry that he felt the same way.

For a few minutes they sat there, swinging gently back and forth in the heat, listening to the neighborhood birds and insects go about their daily business, when Patty suddenly wanted to know something.

"Why were you out in the street?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Where were you walking to when the stick hit you?"

"Oh. I don't know. Just walking."

She paused for a moment. 

"You don't like the Dursley's?" 

From what she'd seen of them all together, Patty could tell that Harry didn't want to be with the Dursley's almost as much as the Dursley's wanting nothing to do with him.

"Not at all," he said simply.

"My mom always has boyfriends around the house. I hate them."

"At least you know your mom."

Oops. Had Patty struck the wrong chord with Harry by bringing up her mother? 

"My parents died when I was little." Not wanting to pry into painful memories Patty said,

"I have to go home, I have summer school homework," she rolled her eyes.

"I'll walk you."


	4. Chapter 4

"But mom, I feel awful!" Patty wailed from under her covers.

"You should have thought of that before you flunked two classes. This is your consequence for not doing your school work." Her mother replied.

"Mom!" She pleaded. She popped her head out from under the covers and opened her eyes wide, pleading silently for her mother to let her stay home. Her mother stared at Patty for a moment, arms crossed resolutely across her chest. Suddenly her mother sighed and pursed her lips.

"I suppose if you really feel that awful. But you're not getting out of bed all day, and the only thing your eating is chicken broth." Patty mentally pumped her fists and congratulated herself on actually convincing her mother to let her stay home from summer school.

"Fine. I'll probably sleep all day, so don't bother me."

"Whatever," her mom said walking out of the room and shutting the door. 

Patty waited a few minutes before flinging off the covers and tiptoeing over to her closet, where the outfit she had picked out the day before was waiting. She slipped her clothes on as noiselessly as she could, avoiding the creaky floorboards. Patty was flooded with anticipation and impatience as she looked at the clock and realized that she still had two and a half hours to go before Harry would be at the park. She climbed back into bed in case her mother decided to come in and check on her, and lay her head sideways on the pillow so that she could she the Dursley's home. At the sight of the familiar lot, Patty's memory of the afternoon before sprung into her head, and she remembered it with joy. 

Harry had been walking home with Patty from the park, and just before she turned off of the sidewalk to walk up her front porch, Harry said,

"I usually go to the park everyday when I'm here." He gestured toward the Dursley's house. You could meet me there tomorrow." He paused and said, "If you want to."

"Sure," Patty said, surprised not only of the question, but also at him speaking at all, seeing as the entire walk had been silent. "Sounds like fun. Same time?"

"Yeah."

Patty reveled in the happiness and amusement that she felt when she saw him look down and away, trying to hide a blush. Still caught in the daydream, Patty let out a little giggle, and the noise brought her back to reality. The digital clock on her nightstand caught her attention. It had only been three minutes! What an outrage that time should move so slowly when it should move quickly! Patty sighed and lay face down on the pillow, closing her eyes. Images of Harry and the sound of his voice and the tangle of hair that looked almost purposefully disheveled captured her mind, and lulled her to sleep. 

Patty woke up drooling, one side of her pillow drenched in her own saliva. She got up confused. Had she slept an entire day away? Then she remembered Harry, and she glanced at the clock. Noon! She had slept three hours and now it was noon! She had wanted to leave at eleven and now she was probably too late!

Patty got up, straightened her now wrinkled clothes, and ran her fingers through the tangled mess on her head. What if he had left? What if he had seen she wasn't there and just went home? These thoughts were too distressing for Patty to bear, and she pushed them out of her mind. She scrawled a quick message on a post-it that said: "**I'm asleep, don't bother me." **She put it on her door, quietly shut it, and climbed out of her already open window. Climbing down the tree as fast as possible, Patty picked up a few cuts on her arms, but she was oblivious; the only thing she could think of was getting to the park.

Patty turned a corner at the end of her block, and the playground came into view. She squinted in the bright sunlight (again it was surprisingly sunny), but could see no one on the swings, or anywhere else. Her pace quickened, and she reached the park quickly, but no one was there. Put out, Patty walked, dragging her feet, over to the swing and flopped down on it, disappointed. She leaned her head against the metallic-smelling chain and closed her eyes. Her mind wandered to imaginary conversations that she could have had with Harry. She was drifting off when a creaking noise to her right brought her back to the real world. Patty gasped as the person sitting on the swing came into focus. It was Harry, sitting on the swing, staring off into space.

"Hello." He said swinging his gaze to her face.

"Hey," Patty replied breathlessly. His eyes turned away from her and again he stared and something in the distance. Patty was shocked. He was actually here. And he had snuck up on her and sat in the swing next to her, not making a noise. What an odd day this is going to be, thought Patty. She smiled at the thought that at least it would be a day spent with Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Patty sat atop the edge of the slide, staring down the street in the direction of her house. She wondered if her mom had discovered that she wasn't there. If her mom had gone into Patty's room and found it empty, the first place she would go would be the playground. She knew as well as anyone that Patty's favorite place in the neighborhood was the playground. Patty let her mind wander, imagining the punishment she would get if her mom found her at the playground, hanging around the mysterious Dursley boy. Perhaps she would enroll Patty in summer school classes until she went to college. Maybe she would take away all electronics privileges. These were possibilities too distressing to comprehend. 

Patty gazed without seeing down the street, her mind too busy with thoughts of her mother to see the four strangers walking down the street. The light was coming from behind them, and once Patty finally realized they were there, she squinted to make out whom it was walking towards her. The thick person in the middle was unmistakable, but she didn't recognize the three accompanying him.

"Harry," Patty said, looking towards Harry who had his eyes trained on the sky, "Dudley's coming." Harry's head snapped away from the sky, looked at Patty for a moment, and then looked down the street. 

He sighed angrily, and said, "Come on. Let's get out of here before they start something." He got up, again surprising Patty with his height, and walked away, down towards the small smattering of trees that grew twenty feet or so from the playground. Harry put his hands in his pockets and stared straight ahead, walking faster than Patty could manage with her smaller strides.

"Wait up!" she cried. He paused and turned around, standing in a way that said he didn't want to wait for her. 

Once Patty had reached him, Harry turned and began walking again, though marginally slower. He led them through the trees, and on into a larger thicket, where Patty had never before ventured. He seemed to be following a lightly worn path through the trees. Even though Patty had no idea where they were going, she felt safe around him.

They plodded along, walking through the trees together like friends, like siblings, like (dare she think it?) lovers, though they never really spoke: they're conversations were of the silent variety. 

Harry exuded a strange confidence, and seemed to be extremely comfortable around Patty, but Harry's mysterious air did not allow Patty to feel the same ease around Harry.

Harry seemed perfectly fine with the silence that seemed to follow the pair, whereas Patty would rather have the quiet moments filled with chatter. He had hardly spoken three words to Patty since he met her the day before, and that made Patty rather sad, as she wanted to get to know him.

Patty was wrapped up in her thoughts, and had forgotten entirely about the person standing beside her, so when he stopped, she continued on. Her head was down and she was probably mumbling to herself as she usually did when she was thinking, when a hand pulled her back into reality. She looked down at her arm, surprised that there was a hand there, and followed it up into the face of Harry.

"What?" she asked stupidly.

"We're here," he replied simply.

"Where's here?"

He pointed up, and she followed with her eyes up into the treetops where she spotted a tree house.

"Aren't you a little old for tree houses?" she asked, mocking him.

"I think you'll like this one," he replied grinning. He let go of Patty's arm and began up the rope ladder. Once he had made it half way up, Patty started climbing, leaning back on the ladder to avoid the mud that was cascading down off of Harry's shoes. 

Eventually Patty made it up, and a hand reached down to help her. She took the hand and he pulled her up with ease. 

"Come inside," Harry said, ducking down into the covered opening. Patty reached for the tarp that made the door, glanced inside…and fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

"Patty! Patty?" The unfamiliar voice was slowly pulling Patty from the depths of unconsciousness. Her eyelids fluttered, and a hazy figure came slowly to focus in front of her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized the boy that was leaning over her, but it took her a moment of thinking to fully realize who it was.

"Harry!" she yelled, sitting straight up in surprise. Everything came back to her suddenly. The playground, the strange tree house, and her ditching summer school.

"What time is it?" she asked hurriedly. If Patty had been out for long, her mother would have noticed by now that she was missing.

"About twelve forty-five." Patty sank back down onto the soft couch that she was on (had Harry carried her to it?) in relief. She still had time.

She felt Harry get up off of the couch arm rest where he had perched, and move over to another seat, now that he knew she was ok. Patty propped herself up on her elbow and looked around. They could not possibly be in that rickety old tree house. Harry must have carried her somewhere, maybe to a house (but whose?) because the room that she was lying in was large and luxurious, easily twice the size of the tree house that she had looked up at from the forest floor minutes before. But Patty was not so quick to dispel her memory of looking into the tree house the first time. It had been just as large and vibrant and nice as it was now, and that made no sense.

"Where are we?" Patty asked.

"We're in a tree fort."

"It's this nice in a tree house." He just shrugged.

"How'd you get it this nice in here? And big?" She persisted.

"Magic," he replied simply.

"Ah."

She got up from the red-patterned couch, sufficiently recovered, and began walking around. The room consisted of a main circular living room-type space, full of deep-colored rugs, overstuffed chairs, and soft couches. The room was softly lit, and the effect of the warm yellow light with the deep red and brown furniture made for a very soporific atmosphere. There were three or four small alcoves that contained bookcases, chairs, and lamps adjoined the main room, and in one there was an old computer.

Patty walked slowly around the room, peeking into all of the little spaces. Harry had been very quiet for the past few minutes that she was walking around, and she spun quickly on her heel to search for his quiet form on the chair in the center of the room. When she turned around, she was met with the unexpected form of Harry, who had been following her quietly around the room the entire time. She collided with his chest and lost her balance. She leaned, uncontrolled, forward and to the side, her face buried in Harry's t-shirt, and she fell, taking him with her. They landed with a quiet thud on a thick rug, and Patty realized with embarrassment and satisfaction, that she had landed right in the arms of Harry Potter.


	7. Chapter 7

The tip of my nose almost touched his shirt. I inhaled his scent with every nervous breath I took, but I did not dare let my nose completely touch his shirt. We were lying on the floor, bodies tensed, awkwardly waiting for someone to move. One of my hands held my weight, and it lay palm-down on the dusty wooden floor. My other hand hovered above Harry's stomach where it had fallen. My legs were somewhere behind me, touching his, and they supported most of my body in its awkward position. I did not want to lean completely on him, afraid that would be a little bit too forward; I also did not want to get up – not yet. So I hovered, my body lifted less than a centimeter above his.

For sheer embarrassment, I got off of him a few moments (or was it hours?) later, looking down at my shoes as he got up as well.

"Um…" I started quietly. "I got to go," I said, speaking the words quickly, no doubt garbling them together.

"Ok," he said, but I had already passed half of the room, ready to leave. I heard his footsteps behind me, but I only began walking faster – no need to embarrass myself again. I ducked down as I reached the tarp and brushed it aside, not holding it open for Harry, pretending I didn't know he was behind me. But I came to the rope ladder, which required me turning around. Quickly, I composed myself. I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes, and I could go down the rope ladder fast and be home before her blinked. I turned quickly (like ripping off a band aid, it's always better to do unpleasant things quickly) and paused. His face was inches (make that centimeters) away from mine. My plan to zoom down the ladder and back to my house melted. With no warning whatsoever, Harry leaned in and kissed me. Then he leaned a bit away from me, gauged my reaction, and leaned back in. It took me a moment to realize what was happening, but once it clicked, I threw myself into the kiss.

It was my first one and it was bliss. It was slippery and sweet and I felt my lips moving in rhythm to his. My tongue acted of its own accord and pushed through both sets of lips, into his mouth. It was staggering – I had never kissed a boy before in my life, and here I was, passionately throwing myself at Harry Potter, a boy I had known but never met. How strange and pleasant and exciting. My sense of time, by now, was completely off, and I had no idea how much time had passed when we finally parted the third time for air. I leaned back towards him, but he stopped me and said,

"You should go." I started to whine but he stopped me. "Really," he said, "you're mom is probably putting up posters with your picture on it right now." How could I argue with that logic? He was right. My mother had probably figured out that I was no longer there, and if she hadn't I was very lucky.

He helped me down the ladder, and watched me as I walked away. I smiled at him one last time before I broke through the trees and onto the lawn behind the playground. _So much can change in a few hours_, I thought to myself with pleasure.


End file.
